


Yeah, that is what this Breathless Feeling is Like

by anupturnedboat



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Pitch Perfect One Shot</p>
<p>Becca Mitchell/Jesse Swanson</p>
<p>She is glad it is so loud; otherwise he’d hear the crazy staccato beat her heart is spinning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, that is what this Breathless Feeling is Like

Backstage, it is mostly giddy squealing, and Becca steps back, the adrenaline finally starting to leave her system.  Did they really just win? Randomly it occurs to her that she has lost the pitch pipe somewhere and that it will just be another thing for Aubrey to give her one of those tight lipped grimaces about. Maybe now would be a good time to confess, while Aubrey is still basking in the win.

She feels him come up behind her, “Congratulations,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear.  For once he is not loud or boisterous or ready with a quippy one liner and she knows he only gets like this when he is being absolutely serious.

“Crushed it,” she whispers back over her shoulder not quite meeting his eye. She is glad it is so loud; otherwise he’d hear the crazy staccato beat her heart is spinning.

“This bed is on fire with passionate love!” Amy suddenly wails, pointing at her and manhandling the trophy in really impropriate ways.

Becca feels the flush flare up her neck all the way to her hairline. She had only been listening to that song because of the grunge era revival that had been going on at the station lately, and maybe, she thought she could mold it into something really kick-ass. It hasn’t been on infinite repeat for any other reason. It occurs to her that Amy notices too much, and makes assumptions about too much too.

She shoots Amy a glare, but Amy ignores her and sings even louder.

“The neighbors complain about the noises above, but she – hey!” Amy finishes lamely as Aubrey pries the trophy away from her.

Becca can feel the press of Jesse’s shoulder next to her, but can’t bring herself to look him in the eye. She has a stupid, fake smile plastered on her face. It’s like all the wind has suddenly been knocked out her, and she doesn’t know why.

Tonight had been a leap, a good leap. It was the kind of leap that felt so good when you finally agreed to let go.  But now her heart is thumping in that erratic way it so often does, and it’s not that she regrets it, just that she never considered the epilogue.  How she was supposed to be, how he was supposed to be, or whether there was a sequel in the works or not.

Up until tonight, they hadn’t even been speaking, and then she showed him her heart, and then she had kissed him, and now she isn’t sure what she is supposed to do next. She is lost, thinking, thinking... deflecting. Another not so subtle bump and she pretends not to notice.  It might be because she’s drowning.

It is a relief when Chloe rushes over and hugs her in that rib crushing way. Becca laughs, mostly to get rid of that weird tightness in her chest.

“Party at the hotel,” Chloe says meaningfully, looking over Becca’s shoulder. Becca grimaces at the thought of Jesse’s inevitable grin.  Ever have that feeling that you might want to get off before the roller coaster starts its ascent?  It could spin off the track, crash, or send you careening right out of your seat. Yeah, that was what this breathless feeling is like.

She mentally kicks herself. Why is she such a jerk?

“See you there,” Jesse replies over her head.  And damn, she can hear that grin in his voice too.

He takes her hand.  He’s effortless about it really, but she stumbles over her own feet as he leads her into the quiet of a hallway.

“Was that real?” he motions towards the stage half hopeful, half star struck and it just makes her more uncomfortable. “Tell me that was real.”

It is easier, up on stage, with the adrenaline, the music, the lights, the dance moves, the words that are not her own. In real life,  she is still just unsure Becca. The Becca that is thinking and rethinking every move until she’s moved herself right off the stage.

He waits for her, that damn grin never leaving his face. Hopeful, star struck.

 


End file.
